


You're Missing

by ForensicSpider98



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, literally just angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 19:18:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16666702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Inspired by "You're Missing" by Bruce Springsteen, which is really great and very sad.





	You're Missing

Keith stared at the closet. A familiar blue and white shirt. Button-downs. A few suits. A pair of ice skates. A box of childhood memorabilia. There was a familiar pair of blue and white shoes still out in the hall. No one had had the heart to move them yet. Keith wondered if anyone ever would. Rosa was in the kitchen, with the newest member of  _ la familia _ , Julia, who was only a few months old. Keith wondered what they would tell her. If she’d ever ask about the strange yet familiar-looking boy in all the old pictures.

Everything was exactly as it had been the last time Keith had been there. Everything was exactly the same. Except Lance was missing.

There was a coffee cup with the word “Sharpshooter” printed on it resting on the kitchen counter. There was a threadbare green jacket with a white hood and orange stripes on the sleeves still hung over the back of the blue chair. Lance’s chair. There was a stack of letters piled up by the doorstep that no one had dared to open.

Everything was exactly the same. It was like he was still here. Except he wasn’t. He was missing.

Keith wandered back down the hall, opening a random door. A king-sized bed with only one half in use. A series of pictures on the nightstand. The newest one was of Keith and Lance in Paladin armor, arms wrapped around each other. He could hear the TV from downstairs. The semblance of normalcy was terrifying. It felt like the entire house was waiting for Lance to come home, for him to walk in the front door and scoop up his  _ sobrinos _ and kiss them one by one. To wrap his arms around his mother and press his lips to her cheek and ask how he could help with dinner. To ask Keith how he was settling in, if he was comfortable sharing his home.

But he was missing. When Keith shut off his light, Lance was missing. When he closed his eyes, Lance’s warmth, his embrace, was missing. When he woke with the sun, Lance was still missing, and any hope that this was all a bad dream was missing.

“ _ Tío _ Keith?” 

“Hey, Nadia.”

“We’ll see him again, you know. He’s in heaven with  _ gran tío Leo _ . He’s waiting for us.”

  
  


Back at his own place, the sun broke and went down, and Keith and all his indifference didn’t leave his couch. His bed felt too empty, too big. There was too much room. The calls from his fellow teammates went unanswered. They all said the same thing: “How’s everything, everything?”

Everything is Everything. And everything is exactly the same, but Lance is missing. And whatever God Nadia was talking about had better be as good to Lance as she promised, because the Devil was the ever-growing pile of letters spilling out of his own mailbox.

There was dust on the Paladin boots by the door, save for a few clean spots where his own tears had washed it away. The tears were all that he had left.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any story suggestions/requests, I'm open! Thanks for reading!


End file.
